


The Path To Self-Discovery

by ninwrites



Series: Do I Dare Disturb The Universe? [12]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Asexuality, Attempt at Humor, Blue-Eyed Alec, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Friendly banter, Lead Up To Relationship, M/M, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Pre-Relationship, Raphael doesn't know how to like anyone, Sexuality Crisis, Simon Lewis & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Simon doesn't know how to like boys, Teachers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9298919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: Simon is the kind of bright, happy guy who needs everyone to be frends with him. Raphael would prefer to have no friends and save himself the headache.In theory, they're far better off as distant colleagues - the contrast between them akin to day and night.In reality, despite claiming to hate each other, the two couldn't be more perfect. It might just take them a little while to realise it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely anon on tumblr who requested a saphael fic. I hope you like it. 
> 
>  this is my first attempt at saphael. i hope it's okay. 
> 
> the actual uni/college stuff is based on what I know from my own experiences selecting courses and applying to universities. and the school itself is based off my own experiences so might seem a little strange.

When Simon was in college, he'd minored in Philosophy and taken a major in Advanced Musical Studies. Three years in, he'd spontaneously shifted his courses around and graduated with a qualification in secondary teaching with a Bachelor of Musical Studies.

The reason behind the sudden shift is embarrassing, and one he prefers not to divulge: his best friend, and at the time the supposed love of his life Clary, had picked up an extra teaching degree on top of her pre-existing two Bachelor degrees of Arts and Graphic Design. Simon had hated the idea of Clary staying at college for another year without him and, as he was already slightly intrigued by the course details, decided to join her - and part of him did think it might be fun.

Thankfully, he ended up loving the course - and now, five years after he graduated high school with the grand dream of being a rockstar - he's a teacher, recently employed at New York's Alicante College of Academia - the name of which sounds a lot more pretentious than it actually is.

He's made some pretty good new friends too, and his crush on his best friend has dwindled back down to an appropriate, platonic love. Life is wonderful, he has a great job, fairly respectful students, he lives with his best friend - which allows him to even be somewhat financially stable.

Of course, there are a few things that dampen Simon's generally happy mood.

Like the scowl on his colleague, Alec Lightwood's face every time Simon walks into the room. (The guy hates him, not that Simon knows why, it's not like he's ever really done anything to annoy Alec. He just seems like a generally grumpy guy. Like Grumpy Cat!)

And, there's the Head of the English Department, Raphael Santiago. That guy has one expression - _done with your crap._

And that's just not fair, because he doesn't even give Simon the chance before deciding he's not worth the effort of even a courteous nod.

And Simon is totally worth that. He's worth ... he's worth a smile! At least. He's an awesome person!

It's not his fault that Santiago won't spare him a second glance. He's certainly _tried_ to leave a good impression.

Not that it appears to have helped.

 

* * *

 

"Just drop it, Si."

Clary is a beautiful, kind, lovely woman - but Simon honestly thinks that his best friend is actually beginning to lose her mind. Which is a shame, because they usually have very good conversations ... when she isn't giving him ridiculous advice.

"But - but-" Simon's sputtering is unfairly counter-productive. "You _know_ I can't _do that_ , Clary."

She gives him the grace of only smirking instead of laughing as he expects. It's a small kindness, but one appreciated nonetheless.

They're sipping lukewarm coffee out of flimsy cardboard cups in the musty quiet of the teacher's staffroom. They were supposed to have a meeting before classes, and had left earlier accordingly.

Unfortunately, the meeting had been cancelled because of reasons neither of them were apparently privileged enough to be privy to, which left them two hours early with literally _nothing_ to do.

So they're gossiping in the staffroom. Because why not?

"You can't be friends with everyone, Simon, and there's nothing wrong with that." Clary reasons, and, sure, she has a pretty valid point.

But Santiago's distaste for him is so curiously strong that Simon is, in turn, struck with a deep urge to, at the very least, discover why - considering Simon has never done anything to warrant such a cold reception everytime they so much as cross paths.

"I just don't get it." Simon replies, fiddling with the lid of his almost-empty cup. The coffee has served it's purpose, but he'll probably need another in the few seconds he gets between classes. "I've been nothing but nice to him. How come, every time he looks at me I feel a part of my _soul_ shrivel up?"

"Because you're a Class-A drama queen with a flair for the dramatic?" Clary suggests, with a shrug. "Some things just can't be explained."

He's about to throw a pen at her - a completely justified act of vengeace - when the door to the staffroom slams open. Light-hearted laughter trickles in, followed by the presence of three of their colleagues - Jace Herondale, Physical Education and Maths; Isabelle Lightwood, Head of the Science Department and Psychology teacher; and Alec Lightwood, Physical Education and the coach of pretty much every sports team Alicante have.

Jace walks over and drops a chaste kiss on Clary's forehead. They've been dating for a few weeks now, and although the logical course of the universe would suggest that as such, he and Simon would be friends ... they're far from it.

Jace acts like Clary's attention is something to be fought over or won or something. Which, firstly, it isn't, because Clary is a human being and more than just a prize.

And, of course, Simon would obviously win, so it's all just pointless anyway.

Alec, typically, heads straight to the coffee machine on the counter without acknowledging either of them. Isabelle flops onto the seat next to Simon and swings her heeled-boots onto his lap.

She's beautiful, dark eyes that peel away every delicately constructed layer, a brilliant mind to match her brilliant personality - and she's so entirely out of Simon's league that he prefers to just accept his inevitable fate of being alone forever. It doesn't help that Isabelle is naturally very flirty and comfortable ignoring the boundaries of personal space.

"I thought you had a meeting." Isabelle states.

Simon nods. "Well, yeah, but it got cancelled - apparently - and so, here we are."

Isabelle tilts her head, her intricate braid shifting with the movement. "Don't you have to sub for Ericson?"

"I'm pretending I don't."

Ericson teaches ICT. Simon knows very little about ICT. The students are most definitely going to actually laugh in his face.

What a wonderful day to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

"Lewis, you have exactly three seconds to move."

Simon breathes in deeply, summoning unknown measures of strength, before he turns around. "Or you'll do what?"

Santiago is glaring at him, with the kind of irritated fury Simon has never felt from anyone else at such a high degree. "You don't want to know."

What a ridiculous line. Simon rolls his eyes. He doesn't have time for this - Ericson's dumb ICT class starts in exactly four minutes and it's practically across campus. "How about we both move at the same time, and then both of us can go where we need to."

Santiago seems to bristle even more at Simon's suggestion, which is just stupid, because Simon had a great suggestion, it was perfect. A+. Santiago's just a - a - a cactus! Prickly on the outside, the kind of plant person that nobody wants to go near for fear of being stabbed. He probably lived off one drop of water a month, too. Like a freaking vampire or something.

"Caught up in frivolous daydreams again, Lewis?"

 _"Daydreams of your untimely passing,"_ Simon mumbles beneath his breath. Santiago's glare hardens, and then he shoves past Simon, almost hard enough to cause a distruption in the universe and lead to the upheaval of Simon's things.

The few students lingering around snicker quietly, but Simon tries his best to ignore them. He works at a high school, he's learnt to expect and deal with the odd adolescent backlash.

He adjusts the strap of his satchel on his shoulder and continues manuevering through the halls, his conflict with Santiago grating his nerves, still. The guy just needs to chill ... and smile for once in his life!

It's not really that hard, Simon does it all the time.

 

* * *

 

Pizza night is a weekly tradition in the Fray-Lewis household. On Friday, or Saturday, they order three large pizzas - one pepperoni, one vegetarian, and one half-and half - a serve of garlic bread each and a dessert platter to share, and snuggle down on bean-bags watching their crappy-film-of-the-week.

Over the months, pizza night has grown to include more and more people. Which, at first, was just painful - at least in Simon's eyes - because it meant changing the orders and more arguments over film choices, and it had stopped being _his and Clary's_ thing. They'd been doing it in some form or another since they were kids, when they'd sneak popcorn and cans of soda into Clary's room and watch old horror films on Simon's plastic DVD-player.

He's grown accustomed to it, over the general course of being exposed to it (only slightly against his will) with no forseeable end. Now, he enjoys pizza night, with the extra people who come along. The Fray-Lewis household has become a social hotspot, which is something that present-Simon wishes he could show past-Simon, to let the poor, nerdy guy in love with his best friend know, that one day he'll have more friends over at his place than he knows what to do with.

Or, in some cases, tolerate.

"This little punk was about twelve years old," Jace is telling a story, something about some kid who punched Alec or who Alec punched ... Simon's a little hazy on the details. He's trying to catch the melted string of cheese with his tongue before it slides off the end of his pizza slice, in as gracious and preferably not awkward a manner as he can manage.

He manages to bite it off before it can fall, but he does end up with sauce smearing the left side of his mouth. Such casualties are to be expected.

They're in-between movies, using the time to eat and talk, because there are about six of them there, and it's "rude" to not socialise. Which is a bit hypocritical, because everyone tells Simon off for becoming too engrossed in the films, but nobody is saying anything to Alec, who hasn't stopped checking his phone for the last hour and a half.

Sure, Alec is intimidating and appears to have a special vendetta against Simon, despite Simon not having done anything wrong (that he's aware of), but the others aren't scared of him. Isabelle, certainly, isn't scared of her older brother - yet the only thing she's done is glance over and smile in that hidden way where she seems to know and understand everything.

Especially when Simon doesn't, which could be a coincidence, but probably isn't.

However, Simon isn't stupid enough to question Alec, ever, let alone in front of people who'll most likely take Alec's side over Simon's if they had to. So he just quietly munches on his almost-cold pizza and keeps his opinions to himself.

He can practically hear Santiago's snipy voice in his head: _"Like your opinions are worth much, Lewis."_ It's ridiculous to feel angry at a voice that is inside of his own head. Maybe he's going crazy? It's a little too early in the term for him to be losing his marbles, but more surprising things have happened in his life. Who knows, he might be able to get a sick day from it. Claim mental exhaustion and impaired judgement, or something. Inability to properly fulfill his duties.

Just plain done.

Maybe he could just blame Santiago, for ... for improper conduct, or something. That would really piss him off. The thought brings an odd sense of excitement.

"Hey, Si?"

Simon looks up, to Clary's quizzical eyes. "Yes?"

"Iz just asked if you wanted the last slice?" Clary gestures towards the lone slice of pepperoni. It does look appetizing. But Simon's had, well, _a lot_ , so it's probably not a good idea.

He hates turning down pizza.

"No, I'm good."

"Is everything okay, man?" Jace asks. "You've been kind of quiet."

Simon must really look spaced out or something, if Jace is asking about his wellbeing. Their relationship is very work-colleagues-who-sometimes-unfortunately-hang-out. They act civil towards each other, and Simon's been forced to accept that Jace is going to be around, because he's dating Clary.

Sacrifices must be made in the name of awesome friendship, after all. Clary's sacrifice was suffering through Simon's attempts at making a band name stick when they were sixteen.

That, and listening to him complain about Santiago.

"I'm fine." Simon replies. "Can we play _Empire Strikes Back_ now?" It's the second week in their _Star Wars_ marathon. Simon's idea, naturally - though he's pretty sure that Isabelle enjoyed the first one (they skipped the prequels for personal reasons).

Alec grumbles, something about "boring, mundane films" and having "something better to do" with his time. Simon sniggered. Alec's relation to Grumpy Cat seemed almost biological.

"As long as you don't quote every line of the film." Clary reasons. "We _are_ watching it with other people."

Simon's reponse is perfectly mature because he is an adult. (He pokes his tongue out at her. They're both children at heart.)

He still gets to watch _Star Wars_. That's all that maters.

 

* * *

 

"They just cannot be serious."

Simon leans over to look at the stack of essays in front of Clary. _Van Gogh lost his ear in a terrible boating accident..._

"Wow," Simon whistles out a low note. "Boating accident. That's a new one."

Clary shakes her head. "There was another one with four pages on how it was possible that he was actually a robot being controlled by the government, and another with barely three paragraphs that outlined how he cut of his own ear for the greater good of humanity."

"You have other students, right?" Simon asks. "Surely they did better."

"Thankfully," Clary sighs. "Out of two classes, these are the only bad ones I've gotten. I just can't believe that they legitimately thought their answers were appropriate."

Simon rocks back in his chair, thoughtfully. "See, this is why I'm glad I teach music. No one takes music unless they actually care."

"That," Clary pulls his chair until it's planted safely on the ground. "And you have, like, three assignments across a whole semester."

Simon nods. "That is true."

The door to the teacher's lounge swings open, and Simon groans beneath his breath.

"Simon," Clary warns. "Be nice."

"I'm always nice," Simon replies in a hushed whisper, watching Raphael, and fellow colleague Magnus Bane, enter the room. "He just, he just-"

Simon's sentence is thankfully cut off, considering he didn't know where it was going anyway, as Magnus steps up to their table. "Biscuit, you must stop frowning like that. Such a pretty face shouldn't be marked prematurely by worry lines."

"Hello, Magnus." Clary greets. "It's just one of those marking sessions, you know?"

"Where you're ready to rip your hair out and tear apart your degree?" Magnus nods, and pulls out a chair. "Unfortunately, I know that all too well."

He teaches 18th - 20th Century History and Myths & Legends. Not that his fashion sense, or his personality for that matter, really match what he knows so much about. He's pretty nice, but he's also friends with Raphael - everyone has their flaws.

"So, how are _things_?" Clary asks, putting a relatively heavy emphasis on the last word. Simon glances at her sideways, curiously.

Magnus purses his lips tightly. "What are you implying, Clarissa?"

Okay, so now Simon really is confused. The use of Clary's full name is not something Magnus simply pulls out, casually. He flicks his glance between them, the movement reminiscient of watching a tennis match.

"Oh, you know." Clary twirls her red pen in her hand. "You, and Alec..."

Simon's eyes widen from behind the lens of his glasses. Magnus ... and _Alec?_ What could Magnus, the epitome of glitter himself, and Alec, the human incarnation of the red-grumpy-face-emoji, have to do with each other? What could they possibly even have in common?

Magnus raises an eyebrow. "If you have something to ask, Biscuit, just ask it."

Simon is about to pipe up and ask his own question, when he's almost knocked off his chair.

"My apologies," Raphael draws, sarcastically. "I almost didn't see you there."

Simon grits his teeth and bites back the few hundred curse words threatening to spill. Now is not the time, or place, and besides that, he has a class in ten minutes.

He just needs to make it from the table to the door without knocking Raphael onto his smug ass.

 

* * *

 

Simon likes to think he is a relatively nice person. His students all seem to like him, even the more troublesome ones, and he's managed to get Alec to somewhat warm up to him, though it has taken far longer than he'd expected - and by warm up, he means treat like a human being. And he's friendly will all the other staff, even the school nurse and the administration group.

Except for Raphael Santiago, who seems to have a hidden and unprovoked vendetta against Simon.

It has been a few weeks since Raphael had almost tripped his chair, and despite Simon's best attempts at being civil and polite, he's gotten to the point where he's exhausted all of his options and gotten nowhere.

"Am I that hard to get along with?" He asks, somewhat pettily. He, Clary, Magnus, Jace, Alec and Isabelle had all met up for lunch at the nearest cafe, as they all need a break from the school, even if it is for only three-quarters of an hour.

"Yes," Jace replies, smirking. Simon takes a sip of his latte and blinks back a glare.

"I really don't understand why you're so obsessed with the fact that Raphael doesn't like you." Jace continues. "Just let it go."

But Simon can't. For some reason, he can't get over the fact that Raphael Santiago seems to dislike him for no understandable reason. He's so pretentious and upstart and thinks he's better than everybody else around him, like God has blessed the ground he walks on or something.

"He can't let it go," Alec comments idly, sipping his iced tea. Apparently he's trying to refrain from drinking as much coffee during the day. Simon wonders how well that's working for him. "He has a crush on Santiago."

He says it so simplisticly, so naturally, as though it is the most normal explanation in the world. For a second nobody says a word, Simon himself still trying to grasp what Alec had just said. Surely not, he - he doesn't have a crush on Raphael...

He _doesn't_.

"What brings you to that conclusion?" Magnus asks, soft and curious.

He's, interestingly enough, sitting quite closely next to Alec, his arm slung along the back of Alec's chair. The weirdest thing is that Alec doesn't seem to have any probelm with it, he's almost ... leaning into Magnus.

"The way he, you know," Alec waves a hand at Simon, generally. "Acts, and won't stop complaining about how Raphael treats him."

Isabelle, who'd been watching Alec curiously, glances at Simon. "He might actually have a point, Simon. You do act a little like a teenager with a crush." Her dark eyes glint with unrestrained excitement.

"You're wrong," Simon stutters out weakly. Because he doesn't, he doesn't have a crush on Raphael, he just has a deep internal urge to be liked by everyone.

"Maybe." Alec admits, narrowing his eyes at Simon. "Or maybe you're just in denial."

Simon really hates Alec like this. He's too ... _not_ grumpy. It's weird. And dangerous for Simon's wellbeing.

 

* * *

 

"It's official."

Clary looks up, pencil in hand. Simon walks into her room and flops face-down onto her bed.

"I'm going to need a little more information, Si." Clary says, sympathetically. She puts her pencil down onto her sketchpad and spins in her chair. "What happened?"

"What happened is Alec, for some reason, isn't grumpy and has decided to ruin my life."

Clary frowns. "I'm still having trouble understanding."

Simon rolls over, turning to instead look at the ceiling instead of the dark void that came with shoving his face into Clary's comforter.

"What he said," Simon mumbles. "About me having a crush on Santiago."

"Oh, Simon," Clary's voice is soft and kind and everything Simon needed to hear. "You know Alec probably didn't mean it, he's just not used to being, well, kind and friendly with everyone."

For a moment, Simon is distracted by Clary's comment. "What do you mean?"

"Well, now that he's in a relationship, he's not all, repressed and such." Clary explains. "He probably just thought he was helping."

"In a relationship?" Simon echoes. "Alec?"

"Yeah," Clary frowns. "He and Magnus have been dating for, like a month now. I thought you knew that."

Simon shakes his head. Though, that does clear a lot of things up.

"That wasn't the problem," He clarifies, rolling over to face her.

"Then what is the problem?" Clary asks. She really is the best friend Simon needs.

"I didn't realise, before he said it, but - but what Alec said was true. I - I do have a - a crush on Santiago ... on Raphael." Simon ends his sentence with a deep sigh.

It seems ignorance truly is bliss and truth does, in fact, hurt. A lot. Simon's head is already pounding with a dull pain from the headache this whole situation is giving him.

"Oh, Simon."

"I know," Simon laments. "I'm pathetic, aren't I?"

"No," Clary hops off her chair and joins him on the bed, reaching for his arm. "You're human. It's okay to have feelings for someone and not realise."

Simon purses his mouth, but remains silent.

"Or is it not that you have a crush on _Raphael..."_ Clary ponders, aloud. Simon grips the duvet beneath him and sighs. "Or that it's ... a guy."

"I've never liked a guy before." Simon admits. "I've known that guys are handsome or good-looking, or, on rare ocassion cute, but I've never thought about it further than fleeting impressions. But Raphael..."

Simon's eyes flutter closed and he sighs again. "He's grumpy and he can be kind of rude and he snaps a lot, but he's also ... there's just something _about_ him that's ... captivating. Every now and then I'll pass by his class and see him teach and he's, he's just so passionate about everything. And sometimes he'll randomly slip into Spanish and something sparks inside of me."

Clary squeezes Simon's arm, but stays quiet as he continues. "I don't think I've even focused on the positive things before, I've only considered how frustrated or irritated he always seems to be, or how I hardly ever see him smile, or how he acts like everyone and everything around him exists to grate his nerves."

Simon rolls over and lies his head on Clary's lap. She runs a hand gently through his hair, the movement slow and comforting, like the way his sister Rebecca used to when they were little and Simon was scared of the boogeyman beneath his bed.

"I just don't know what to do now." Simon mutters. He feels weak and pathetic. He hates it.

"You don't have to figure that out, yet." Clary promises him. "Not until you're ready."

Simon knows she's right, but he's also secretly worried - because what if he's never ready? To have a crush on a guy in general, let alone to have feelings for _Raphael Santiago_ of all people.

Why couldn't he have just fallen for Isabelle? Sure, he thinks she has feelings for Lydia Branwell, the Sociology and Legal Studies teacher, but falling for her would have been so much easier. They know each other, they're friends, she flirts, he throws back a nerdy line or joke that she laughs at because she finds it cute. Simple.

Instead he's stuck in this awkward, complicated mess, and he has no idea how to get out of it.

 

* * *

 

"He is so insufferable!"

Magnus hides a smirk behind his wine glass and hums. It's not the first time he and Raphael have had a conversation along these lines. Undoubtedly, it will not be the last.

"With his ridiculous ramblings and his overbearingly bright smile and his stupid habit of being in my way, nevermind his relentless deluge of random useless facts..."

Magnus tilts his wineglass thoughtfully. "Raphael you know what my reply is going to be."

"I did not come here for your opinion, Bane." Raphael snaps. "I came to catch up with friends, and unfortunately your apartment was the designated meeting area."

Ragnor leans back on the loveseat, one long leg folded over the other. "Raphael, I loathe to provide Magnus with any incentive to inflate his own ego, but for once I do think he's correct."

Raphael glares in complete and utter betrayal. "I cannot believe you."

Magnus grins, this time not even attempting to hide it. "You can't blame Ragnor for being honest. I am right. That is simply a fact, Raphael."

"I do _not_ like Simon." Raphael bites. "And the fact that you seem to think so is-"

"Irritating?" Magnus contributes. "Wouldn't be the first time you found me that way. Your love doesn't hurt me, darling. I know there is a rose behind all those sharp thorns."

He's teasing, because he finds Raphael's frustration with himself far too amusing to pass up the opportunity. Raphael can be a hard person to be friends with, and he doesn't give out affection as easily as Magnus does - he's very reserved and withheld, and it is only once he believes he is truly close with someone, once he believes that there is real trust between him and the other person, that he allows himself to move any further.

The fact that he obviously has budding feelings - a crush at least - for Simon is as charming as it is heartwarming. Magnus understands Raphael requires support and patience to come to terms with his own reality.

But he's also already on his third glass of wine, and his decisions aren't as clearly thought out, though his intentions are still relatively pure.

"I think Simon would be good for you," Magnus twirls the wine in his glass idly. "Opposites attract and all that nonsense."

Ragnor stifles a laughter against the rim of his own glass. Raphael glowers and stands up from the couch in a huff.

"I need some air." He announces, stalking off in the direction of Magnus' balcony - because he somehow has the finances for a penthouse apartment on a teacher's salary. Magnus and Ragnor watch him pass, with measured degrees of intrigue and sympathy.

"Who could have forseen that _he_ would be the more painful one out of the two of you?" Ragnor sighs. He always seems to have this aura of boredom and fatigue around him, bu he is a very good friend, when he finds it fitting.

"I am in a healthy, happy relationship, I would thank you to remember." Magnus reminds him. "Which I managed without your help."

He had help, just not from Ragnor.

"Camille."

It's only one word, but Ragnor doesn't need any more to get his point across. Magnus frowns for a few seconds, before letting the tension gow with a smooth exhale of air. He's happy now, it's a lot easier to accept the mistakes of his past.

"Touche, dear friend, touche."

Ragnor smirks and sips at his wine in a slow movement that is surprisingly smug. Magnus had broken up with Camille almost five years ago, now, but Ragnor enjoys bringing it up, to keep Magnus humble or something.

Raphael walks back in at that moment, his expression contorted, wry and almost painful.

"It appears, that the two of you were unfortunately correct in your assumption." He states, his eyes flicking up to glance between them. "As much as I would rather not, it seems that I do, in fact, have ... some level of _feelings_ for Simon."

Raphael says it as though it is a burden, but the two of them both know that it is simply his way of dealing with the information he's just beginning to accept. Raphael doesn't handle feelings as well as others might, and his way of attempting to come to terms with it, is to revert back into himself, fight back against those who try to help, or appear as though they understand better than he does.

Fortunately, Magnus has been in situations vaguely similar before, though not in any way the exact same, and therefore he understands what Raphael needs and what will only hinder him.

"It is okay to melt away the ice." Magnus whispers kindly.

"But will I be left standing?" Raphael mutters. "Or will I melt with it?"

Ragnor tilts his head, a purse to his lips. "That is a question only you can answer, my friend."

Raphael groans, raking a hand through his pristinely styled hair. "You two could just provide me with an answer that is clear and not cryptic."

Magnus smirks. It's nice to see that Raphael is, in fact, human. "Now, where would be the fun in all of that?"

 

* * *

 

"Okay. I've done everything. _Everything_ I possibly can to figure things out but I have gotten nowhere and I can't do this by myself you must _help me!"_

Simon flops down onto his bed. He feels hopeless - more than hopeless, ruined, utterly wrecked.

_"Why are you coming to me for help? Can't you just ask Clary?"_

Simon shrugs, before realising that Alec can't see him. Of course. Because they're on the phone. "I have, but her advice is limited to _'maybe you don't have to figure it out just yet'_ which hasn't, in all honesty, been too helpful."

Alec's sigh comes through the line haggard and low. _"So the next logical step was to come to me? How did you even get my number?"_

Simon rolls onto his back, his eyes catching on the monochromatic dreamcatcher that Clary had made for him in their senior year of high school. "I got it from Isabelle. That's not important - I came to you, because - well, because you've been through this before."

 _"Been through what?"_ Alec asks, though his voice is a little softer.

"Liking ... guys."

It's still a little hard to admit out loud, even in the privacy of his bedroom with the distance between him and Alec. There's a heavy beat of silence - Simon's pretty sure he can feel his own heart stutter in his chest.

 _"I didn't mean any bad intention by what I said, Simon."_ Alec says slowly. He sounds - apologetic, and nice and it's all a little too weird.

"I know, I know, and at first I kind of thought it was just a joke, you know, but then - but then I started actually thinking about it and, and you were right." Simon sighs. Liking someone shouldn't be this hard. It shouldn't _feel_ so difficult and stressful and give him blossoming headaches everytime he thinks about it too much.

_"Si-"_

"I like Santiago - _Raphael_ , I like Raphael and I don't know what to do about it and I need your help before I lose my mind."

A few adjectives come to mind in that moment - pathetic, desperate, to name a few.

 _"Have you ever liked guys before?"_ Alec asks. Simon wants to thank him for agreeing to help but that might be pushing his luck a little considering he still isn't quite sure where he and Alec sit, and he _really_ needs as much help as he can possibly get.

"Not really, certainly not like this. I've never crushed on a guy or, you know, wanted a guy-"

He can almost hear Alec wince. _"A little too much information, thanks Simon."_

"Sorry." Good one, Simon. "But you know what I mean - I've never felt about a guy the way I do about Raphael, and that - that scares me, because I don't know what to do, it's all new and different and kind of scary and it all just came out of nowhere."

 _"I get it."_ Alec makes a small, almost humming noise _. "I remember how, stressful and stuff that can be."_

"So what do I do?" Simon asks, almost urgently. Surely Alec has an answer, he must, he must, Simon doesn't know what he'll do if Alec doesn't.

_"The most cliched answer would be talk to him, but I think you need to figure things out for yourself first - make sure that you actually like him and figure out what you want ... whether you want a relationship with him, or, what. Then I'd say talk to him, but only - only if you feel ready to."_

It's not the easy, quick-fix solution he'd been hoping for, but it makes sense, and wishing for things to be different really isn't helping him.

"Alright. I kind of figured, I just hoped it would be easier."

Alec laughs, and the sound is so sudden and unfamiliar that it catches Simon off guard momentarily _. "Unfortunately, not. I hope I helped..."_

"You did." Simon assures him. "I really appreciate it, thank you."

" _No problem. Good luck - for whatever you choose."_

They say goodbye, and Simon hangs up his phone with the odd sense that maybe, just possibly, he and Alec have reached a point where they're somewhat friends.

He still has a lot to think about, and should probably talk to Raphael at some point, but he's so exhausted that all he wants to do is just eat some Chinese takeout and go to sleep.

Instead he has a stack of reports on Russian composer Igor Stravinsky and his score for 'The Rite of Spring' to mark before tomorrow morning.

Hopefully it will serve as a good distraction from his endless, whirring thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Magnus glances up with curious, coyly lidded eyes. Alec had stood up to take a call a few minutes ago, and from the patches of conversation he'd picked up, Simon had been on the other side - although about what he could only speculate.

"Wrong number?" He asks, just to tease, as Alec joins him back on the loveseat, slowly and almost in a state of glacial confusion.

"Simon just told me he likes Raphael..." Alec says, so utterly serious that Magnus instantly decides to forego any and all attempts at frivolity.

"Interesting," He says, instead. It gains him the reaction he's hoping for, as Alec turns, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. It brings out an unwittingly soft smile.

"Interesting?" Alec echoes. "What does that mean?" His eyes narrow, and it takes near everything in Magnus not to laugh. "What do you know that I don't?"

He's so firm and serious - it's an unfortunate turn-on. Magnus leans in, and presses a feather-light kiss on Alec's lips. Alec responds, sweetly, but pulls himself away after only a few seconds, which Magnus finds both a just punishment and an unfair consequence.

"What do you know," Alec repeats, sliding his hand up Magnus' chest. "That I don't?"

It would be a little more, impactful, if there wasn't twinkling fairy lights dancing in Alec's eyes.

Magnus huffs out a trickle of soft laughter. He wants to tell Alec that he's adorable, but it would probably be counter-productive in the grand scheme of things. So he simply allows himself to lean a little forward, though not too far as to make Alec suspicious, and lets a prize grin break out on his face.

"Our dear vampiric fellow - that is, Raphael I'm referring to - apparently isn't as cold-hearted as assumptions may imply." Magnus explains, cryptic as ever.

Alec stares at him, blue eyes boring into golden-green, and it's all so very reminscient of their first kiss that Magnus has to suck in a short gasp of breath.

"In lamens terms, darling, Raphael likes Simon too. Or, rather, he 'does in fact have some level of feelings for Simon' - which is basically just Raphael's way of saying he's quite possibly about to fall for Sean and he's scared." He clarifies.

"He said that?" Alec asks.

"Indeed," Magnus nods. "I was a little surprised myself that he admitted it. Though I for one could see it, light as day and clear as night. How do you think we should proceed?"

Alec rolls his eyes, though the gesture is fond, and slides his hand up, tangling his fingers with the fluffy strands of Magnus' recently-washed hair - hair that smells of cinnamon and sandalwood.

"You want to interfere? Try and, what, matchmake the way Isabelle wanted to?"

Magnus inclines his head forward. "Now, Isabelle did drop fairly obvious hints that you were into me."

"Ah," Alec tugs gently on Magnus' hair. "But I'm the one who asked you out."

"Are you trying to say we should let them figure it out themselves?" Magnus asks, aware of the rapidly limiting distance between them.

"I'm saying at least give them a chance." Alec answers.

He pulls Magnus forward, and any thought of Simon or Raphael quickly dispel from both of their minds. There are more important matters at hand, for the moment, that occupy much, if not all, of their attention.

 

* * *

 

"Talk. To. _Him._ "

Raphael glares at Magnus, and pushes down the urge to 'accidentally' damage the gleaming paint job of Magnus' car. If he had of known that accepting Magnus' offer of a ride would include an interrogation, he would have passed.

"Shut _up_."

It's been a couple of weeks since they'd skirted around Raphael's 'feelings' for Simon, and each day that Raphael remains silent is another day where Magnus grinds his nerves - he claims he's helping, but Raphael doesn't find it very helpful at all.

"You can't drag this on, Raph-"

"I can do whatever I want, because I am an adult - I do not need to be treated like a child."

Magnus mumbles something along the lines of _"then don't act like one"_ , but Raphael pretends that he doesn't hear, because it's simply easier that way. The route to their office - shared by the two alone - is spent in tense silence. Raphael can feel Magnus' sharp eyes on him, but he chooses to ignore it.

He's far too old for such judgemental sympathy.

He spots Simon, hovering around his office, fidgeting with the strap of his satchel. Raphael startles momentarily, the unexpected sight of the man he'd been fighting to forget the existence of shaking him to the core. It was easy to pretend he had no feelings for Simon whatsoever when the only reference he had was within his own memories.

Seeing Simon standing only a few feet away-

An unwarranted flood of warmth spreads outwards from the center of Raphael's chest, when Simon grins brightly upon seeing them. There's an edge of nervousness to the corners of his smile, but he's radiating so much happiness it's both annoying and hard to miss.

"Good morning, Sean." Magnus waves a glittering, bejeweled hand. "You look cheery."

"Uh, thank you?" Simon frowns slightly. Raphael certainly finds it irritating - not endearing in any way.

Magnus suddenly pulls out his phone, the sequined case almost blinding. Raphael doesn't understand why he needs something so flashy.

"If you'll forgive me, I think I'll just drop my things off and head to the staffroom. Alexander has promised me coffee."

Raphael frowns. He hadn't heard Magnus' phone buzz or sound, and it's usually obnoxiously loud. And he was supposed to cross-reference background research for _Jane Eyre_ with Magnus before he teaches it to his Literature class.

He sends Magnus a sharp look.

Magnus simply winks, which genuinely irritates Raphael, and then waltzes into their office. Barely a second later he's brushing past them with a sly look and an infuriatingly coy smile.

Sometimes Raphael really hates him.

He rubs at the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. This is why he refuses to have friends, or feelings for that matter. It's never worth the headache.

"Hey ... Raphael?"

Raphael glances up with weary eyes. Simon's standing there, still that same, awfully respectful distance away, shuffling his weight from side to side. He looks - nervous, more so than usual. He has a natural, anxious energy that swarms him like an aura, but this is different, more, it's - it's admittedly a little uncomfortable.

"Yes, Simon?" Raphael replies, as kindly as he can - which basically means without the razor edge - because seeing Simon like this is beginning to, well, hurt.

"C-can I ... would it be alright if I ... could we talk?"

Raphael looks at Simon, really looks at him, takes in the light creases in his forehead, the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the wry tug of his mouth ... and sighs. An ache has begun to pulse against the center of his chest, and it only worsens when he looks at Simon.

"Of course." He whispers. He slowly steps past Simon, slipping into his office yet leaving the door wide open for Simon to follow.

Raphael watches Simon curiously as he sorts his things out. Simon enters the room hesitantly, as though he's too apprehensive to even be sure of his own actions. Raphael worries, silently, that he's the reason behind Simon's lack of security.

"Have a seat, please." He gestures to the other side of the desk, where two lone cushioned chairs wait, for instances where he needs to have discussions with students. It's not the best chair-

"You can steal Magnus', if you want. It's very bouncy but more comfortable than those."

He personally thinks that Magnus' chair is over-the-top, but Simon looks like he needs something a little cushioned and comfortable.

(Raphael really is stupidly gone for Simon. It's a little sad.)

"Won't he be ... mad?" Simon asks, glancing cautiously at the door.

"I think he'll get over it." Raphael replies. There's an edge to his voice, which he hopes isn't too harsh. He's hard on Simon at the best of times, but there's a sense in the air that makes the severity of the situation clear.

He's not used to situations like this either, which is making _him_ uncomfortable. Having feelings for - having feelings in general let alone having feelings for Simon, who he _works_ with ... it's a lot and he'd rather just not deal with any of it then have whatever discussion Simon is here to have.

"I really hope I'm not interrupting anything," Simon admits, pulling the chair over. "I can always come back another time-"

"Nonsense." Raphael waves a dismissive hand. "Don't be ridiculous. If you have something to say-"

His throat constricts. He doesn't want to have this conversation. His mind is screeching at him _abort abort abort._

"I do." Simon fidgets with the arm of his glasses. It's stupidly cute. Raphael hates that he finds it cute.

"Raphael, I - I know this is a big deal and obviously I understand that you probably don't - that you don't feel the way I do but I have to tell you, I can't - I can't keep pretending that there's nothing going on because I'm driving myself absolutely crazy-"

"I like you, Lewis."

Raphael's eyes widen at his own statement. That - he certainly hadn't meant to blurt that out. And he'd interrupted Simon as well...

"I'm sorry, Simon, I shouldn't have-"

"I like you, too."

Fate, it seems, works in the strangest ways.

They stare at each other for a few, weighted moments - Raphael leaning with his hands on his desk, Simon on the other side, slumped into Magnus' pumped-up office chair. After spending so long vehemently denying his own feelings, denying that he even had them, hearing the echo of his statement in Simon's voice ... it's far more than he was expecting.

He's not quite sure what to do now. Where they go from here. Magnus never gave him any advice for _after_ he actually told Simon. Bastard.

"You like me?" He utters in a harsh whisper.

"Yeah," Simon smiles bashfully, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, I do. I wasn't entirely sure how to tell you but - I'm glad I did, you know? It's out there. And, since you like me too..."

"I do." Raphael confirms with a shaky nod. "I don't - I'm not good at liking people, you must understand that. It's not something that comes easily too me, and there is a lot I know I have to learn..."

"We can learn, together." Simon blushes. Raphael kind of wants to kiss the heated part of his cheek.

Lucky for them, there's a desk seperating them. A physical barrier.

"If, if you want." Simon adds. Raphael slumps into his own chair, letting out a heavy exhale. "We can - if you want to, obviously you don't have to, I completely understand, I just-"

" _Dios_ , Simon." Snapping at him brings Raphael a secure sense of familiarity. It feels more natural than anything in the past twenty minutes. "If you want to ask me out, just bloody do it."

Simon appears surprised for a few seconds, but to his credit, the shock is quickly replaced with a blinding look of joy. It only annoys Raphael a little, but he doesn't have that much of a problem with it.

"Raphael Santiago," Simon smirks, and Raphael can't help but offer a sly grin in return. "Will you go to dinner with me tonight?"

It's not that hard of a decision. Though Raphael thinks it should feel harder to respond than it does.

"Simon Lewis. You absolute _idiota_ \- I'd love to go to dinner with you."

Raphael still doesn't understand feelings. His own, let alone the feelings of others, too well.

But he does understand that Simon's exuberant grin is, in part at least, because of him. And although that scares him, there is a part of him that has never been more thrilled at being inexperienced.

It's as Simon said. They can learn together.

**Author's Note:**

> I have written a second part with Simon and Raphael's first date + discussion of sexuality/asexuality because that's really important to me and I don't think it's really talked about enough. :) Please let me know if you'd be interested in reading more! :)
> 
> \- if anyone cares Magnus can afford his apartment because of inheritance
> 
> \- you can read more about Igor Stravinsky and his score for 'The Rite of Spring' [here](http://www.theverge.com/2013/5/29/4375736/igor-stravinsky-rite-of-spring-100-anniversary-paris-riot)


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